Late Nights
by Viceroy Elf
Summary: There's something wonderfully intimate and comforting about talking to someone in the dead of night, isn't there?
**I swear it's like I'm running on fumes here. You guys either need to write more or review more. I'm good with either.**

 **I'm doing these one shots for now, but I'll probably do another collection series and then something that constitutes an actual story. All-new headcanons. They're not quite together yet here, but they're something else to each other besides friends.**

 **Anyway, enjoy.**

Late Nights

It's either late night or early morning, and whether it's one or the other is pretty much the furthest thing from his mind. His eyes trace his notes, reviewing what he'd come to learn this night and the last few.

And it's about that time the phone rang.

The buzzing of his mobile removed him from his trance, and he picked it up. The light of the screen stung his eyes. He squinted to make out the words.

Calling: Haughty McStuckup

He smiles, knowing how she'd react if she knew he had saved her under such a name. Still, why she would be calling him at this ungodly hour was a point of intrigue. He answers the call.

"Pacifica?"

"Hey, what's up dork."

The words are a little fuzzy. She's on speakerphone.

"You realize it's like… Yikes, 3 AM. What're you doing up?"

"You don't sound like you just woke up."

"Yeah, but I'm an insomniac workaholic. Staying up late is my thing."

"And I'm wealthy, irresponsible, and rife with reckless abandon. Besides, mom and dad are asleep which means I can watch all the trashy soap operas I like."

He laughs. A short thing of a chortle, but it's much a sign of comfort as any. "You really are a problem child huh?"

"Didn't you know? _I'm the worst."_

She follows with that little giggle she does to let everyone know how amused with herself she is.

It is annoying as it is infectious.

"But enough about me-"

"Truer words never spoken" he interrupts.

" **As** I was saying, what pray-tell, is keeping you up? Some nerd book, right?"

"Actually, I'm teaching myself Spanish."

She didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't that.

"Interesting. Tell me more."

"You're not telling me you'd rather here me go on about my nerdish studies than find out who the clone of the father of the sister of the cousin of the main character of your low budget drama show is, are you?"

"And if I am?"

He stops to think.

"Well… Since you might lose your mind at the idea of someone denying your whim, I suppose I have to comply."

"Smart choice."

He shuffles his notes, reviewing them in succession.

"I've been learning code breaking for a pretty long while now. I found some old documents of Grunkle Ford's that are encoded in different languages. I figure if I'm gonna do this for a living might as well start preparing."

"For a living? What about your critically acclaimed ghost hunting show that'll last for only one season?"

"Excuse me, six seasons and a movie. But, I need to do some mystery busting on my own first. These people I know… well, I know some people who do this kind of thing."

That was a loaded response, and Pacifica knew it. However, with this kid… The less she knew the better.

"Alright then. How's it coming along?"

"Well, I started learning to read Latin last summer. It's a route dialect, so knowing it makes it a little easier to understand other languages in Latin origin. I think at this point I probably know enough Spanish to have a slow conversation. I'll probably move on to French afterward and some Germanic languages after that."

"Sounds like it's gonna take a while."

"Well it would, but I'll be doing this instead of sleeping. That should speed up the process."

"Dipper you're no good to me braindead. Get some sleep."

"Tell me that's not why you called. I absolutely do not need this lecture from you who's' awake at 3 am watching tv for people in their 50s."

" **Dipper. Sleep."**

He really should have expected this. He'd gotten guff from everyone else for his sleeping habits, or lack thereof, and it was about time for Pacifica's two cents.

"Don't tell me you can't handle learning languages, catching monsters, going to school and dueling wits with yours truly without cutting sleep. That doesn't sound like Dipper Pines."

"Fine, fine. I'll work on the sleep thing… You sure can talk 'em down, Princess."

"Don't call me Princess."

"Of course, Princess."

Her scoff warms his heart, it really does.

"Really though, thanks. I… I think I needed this."

She sighs, or, shudders, it's not clear over the phone. "Good night, Pines."

"Night… Princess."

He catches the beginnings of a groan before abruptly ending the call.


End file.
